


Watch Your Words

by DragonRider1



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4779899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRider1/pseuds/DragonRider1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Iron Bull is not often a glutton for punishment, but for the Inquisitor he is certainly willing to make an exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Your Words

The Inquisitor sighed as he heavily flopped down in his throne and laid his wooden cane across his lap, his fingers dug in to his sore knee to try to soothe away the pain. 

On good days the Inquisitor could climb a mountain top with time and few grievances, bad days he’d climb the same mountain with a lot more cursing and a lot less progress. He’d gladly break both of the bastard’s legs who decided to force magic his own leg out from under him, if the apostate hadn’t already been carved into two by a certain Qunari. 

The Inquisitor smirked at that and leaned back in the stone throne, the cold rock pressed into the back of his knee and another sigh slipped out of his quirked lips. His mind free to entertain the…interesting Qunari in his company, 

The Iron Bull was definitely a man who was not ashamed of what he wanted and made it obvious, time and again, he wanted the Inquisitor. The attention was far from unwelcome and the Inquisitor had definitely considered the many offers the Qunari had given; however, he was pretty sure he would never be able to keep up with the Bull’s energy, even without his injury. 

Sighing once more, the Inquisitor bounced his other leg and his cane tapped against his weaker leg as the unusual, morning quiet of the throne room became louder in his mind. The Inquisitor pondered for a moment if he should try to motivate himself to get up and search for company, an exasperated groan escaped him at the thought of moving again. 

“Not quite the sounds I had in mind.” The deep chuckle echoed through the throne room and the Inquisitor smiled again, hearing a door swing shut a lot louder than it had opened. 

“Bull, just the person I was thinking of.” The Inquisitor greeted and raised his cane, pointing it towards the large man for effect. He sat it back to the floor and twirled it in his hand, as Iron Bull stepped up to his throne with one of his wide grins. Like always the Qunari’s eye briefly flashed to the thin stick in the Inquisitor’s hand before trailing up to the Inquisitor, the Inquisitor pondered just why the Qunari always had that reaction and whether it should unsettle him or not. 

“Think of me a lot do you, boss?” Iron Bull pulled his sword off his back and thrust it into ground for support, leaning his weight on it and relieving some of it off his feet. The Inquisitor grimaced at the sight, Antivan thread carpet torn through and the fine grained stone underneath cracking under the weight of the large man leaning into it. 

“Right now I’m thinking I ought to have you punished. Do you know how much those rugs cost or the floor?” The Inquisitor dryly stated, motioning again with his cane and Bull looked down. A large smirk slid across his face as he looked back up and again glanced at the cane. 

“You going to cane me ‘cause of some expensive carpets?” 

“I…” The Inquisitor paused, looking down at his cane and it all clicked. “Oh.” 

“Mm, I’ve seen you handle that thing when facing enemies. Practice up on that technique and I might actually be scared to take a few swats.” Iron Bull chuckled, the sound lost to the Inquisitor’s thoughts. 

_Iron Bull tied face down in the Inquisitor’s bed, a large expansion of deeply, dark, scarred skin surrounded by lush silk and thick ropes straining, wrapped around the large bed posts a thousand times over. The rhythmic tap of the Inquisitor’s cane against the floor, echoing in the warm, calmed space. Before he taps the same rhythm into Iron Bull’s thighs with a flick of wrist and a smirk on his face. The deep guttural groans and lust-thickened chuckles that would be pulled from the Bull._

“Inquisitor?” 

The Inquisitor smirked, meeting the Bull’s single gaze with eyes darkened with his thoughts, mischief, and a sinful promise. 

“You’ll be the one needing the watch word, I believe.”


End file.
